The Tuning Fork
by Urchin of the Riding Stars
Summary: Two-shot. Lonely six year old Danny Fenton is delighted when he finally makes a friend. Of course, his friend intends on recreating a festive St. Valentine's Day massacre, but that's okay. One can't be picky with friends. Especially ones that love you.
1. Gray Valentines

The Tuning Fork

Two-shot. Lonely six year old Danny Fenton is delighted to make a friend. Of course, his friend intends on recreating a festive St. Valentine's Day massacre, but that's okay. One can't be picky with friends. Especially ones that love you.

~(0*0)~

* * *

><p><em><strong>Hello again, everyone. Yes, I realize this story is a lot like My Fair Lady, only this version is a bit darker. As in, the authoress has personally disturbed herself to a whole new level. If this story gets a fairly positive feedback, I'd like to continue and conclude on St. Valentine's Day.<strong>_

_**In the meantime, working with The Little Things and Black Garden. Never done trades before, so was really worried about getting them right. (Really didn't like the first few drafts...) xechoheartx, MasterFranny, SO sorry, and should hopefully have both updated soon. I really appreciate your bearing with me-will do my best, and I hope you enjoy the finished product!**_

_**A few more things before I at last shut up: I realize the poem for this story might seem a bit long, but it seemed to be a perfect fit. (I am at both parts equally distraught and fascinated by Edward Gorey's work. Part II of the poem will come with….uh, part II of the story.)**_

_**This story is probably not one for the kiddies…it IS father/son, however. And yes, I am fully aware that the story is about as OC as you can get.**_

_**Please enjoy.**_

* * *

><p><em>Theoda was a homely child, whose presence drove her family wild.<em>

_Her conversation, and her dress, inspired them all with distress!_

_Theoda, bent on suicide, rushed down to meet the rising tide._

_She cried "Farewell!" to empty air and rushed off the jetty there!_

_She sank; the water chilled her limbs, she recollected bits of hymns-_

_She sank until her senseless toes came into contact with a nose._

_When she revived, she was not dead, but on the ocean's floor instead._

_A monster, of alarming size, was peering at her, in surprise!_

_Despite this sudden change of fate, with monster, she soon began to perilate._

_The simple creature was aghast at hearing of her cruel past…_

_~0*0~_

_The next day, her baffled family found_

_Her father, in the bathtub, drowned..._

_-The Tuning Fork, Edward Gorey  
><em>

* * *

><p>His hands were raw with cold, but they felt like they were burning.<p>

Danny drew one of the sorry red fingertips to his mouth and sucked on it, wincing slightly. His head ached a little too, from where the snowball had hit it. He thought that they today might have sealed a rock inside the little missile. That would definitely explain the angry throbbing at his temple.

He'd be in trouble when he got home, and he knew it; Mommy was immediately going to notice that he wasn't wearing his mittens, and she would demand to know why. This would be the second pair of mittens he'd lost in a fortnight.

Again, he'd have to lie and tell her that he'd dropped them or had swapped them at school for lunch money. And again, he'd have to watch her shoulders sag and listen to his mother sigh and tell him that once again, he would not be getting dessert that night.

He wouldn't tell her the truth. Why should he? Jazzy certainly wouldn't, for the third-grader simply hadn't bothered to stick around for the near-daily beating that happened behind the school, near the dumpsters. Today had been particularly nasty; he'd tried slipping out the window from the boy's bathroom instead of taking the main exit, but there the boys were from his class, waiting for him. Dash had brought a slingshot-he must have been in a particularly foul mood that day.

Danny had long ago given up screaming and pleading for his sister's assistance when his classmates would terrorize him. It only made it worse; when he screamed, the boys would stuff one of his own mittens into his mouth to gag him, and he'd nearly choked more than once. What was most painful of all was watching Jazz's idly retreating back whilst the little girl perused a book at her leisure, oblivious to the muffled squeaks and sobs from behind her.

He'd learned to stop crying a long time ago. This had annoyed Dash and his cronies to no end, so they now took it upon themselves to jump up and down on the boy's back, not satisfied until they'd seen a few fake tears oozing out of swollen blue eyes.

That, or they just hurled him to the ground, and jeered at him to stand up. If he tried to curl up in a ball, they threw rocks. They _wanted_ him to stand up, wanted him to continue fighting futilely, like a good and obliging bit of game. Goading was the spice of it all. Without it, you had a victim who wouldn't at least try to fight back, which, to Dash, Kwan, and Tucker, was inexcusable.

Almost as inexcusable as for his taking up space, apparently.

They were delighted to push the stumbling boy back down again, and start kicking, which was usually better than the stones, excepting when they kicked him in the ribs.

Today, they'd thrown his new pair of little blue mittens into a creek, and to their disappointment, Danny wasn't stupid enough to try sloshing through the icy water to retrieve them. He'd also tried to delay the inevitable by escaping through another exit, which was also another cause for punishment. Thankfully, the boys had at last retreated when Mrs. Baxter had arrived to pick up Dash for a piano lesson, and to give Kwan a ride home. Tucker had the car door slammed in his face when he'd tried to tag along like a timid stray, and the Mercedes had zoomed away. When the quiet boy had turned around to cast a sheepish, apologetic glance at his former friend, Danny was already limping his way across the street, moving away from the boy as quickly as he could. He'd only just now finally caught up to Jazz.

(~0*0~)

He'd never know what it was exactly that made them hate him so much. He'd never really had anything to do with Dash Baxter back in Kindergarten, but one day, at the beginning of First Grade, Dash had cornered him before class, and threatened to knock out all of his teeth unless he handed over his lunch money. Terrified, Danny had quite willingly handed it over, though he'd been bewildered as to why Dash wanted it to begin with. The boy had plenty of money, money that he was quite pleased to flaunt around school with light-up high-tops and fancy birthday party invites that had once made Danny's heart ache in envy.

But no more. Dash was simply _mean_. Danny had never gone out of his way to hurt anyone, spoke only when spoken to, (Which was rare; he had no friends) shared the safety scissors, and wasn't the teacher's pet. And yet Dash loved to torment him. It was as if Danny were the only pustile in an otherwise perfect existence, and Dash was after him constantly, doing his absolute best to destroy that deformity. His best friend Kwan went along with it because Dash told him to, and Danny's once-friend Tucker, who _was _a teacher's pet, (He had a massive crush on Miss Star) had three choices: Become a bully, a victim, or a toady. Tucker's glasses had been broken more than once, and he was more frightened of physical pain more than anything else.

So despite the fact that he and Danny had been great friends the year before in kindergarten, and Danny had stood up for the young boy on a number of occasions, Tucker had eagerly grasped his chance of safety by becoming Kwan and Dash's "friend." Being with the two boys made Tucker feel quite cool and pleased with himself, and was eager to brag of his friendship with the two boys, conveniently omitting the fact that they made him pay ten cents a day for their friendship, and he had to do all of their homework.

And participate in the beating of his former best friend. Which Tucker did do, although with less vigor than the others. But still, he did it, and it would be too soon if Danny never had to see that traitor again. Looking at Tucker made his heart feel….well, he didn't know, like crying.

Grunting slightly to move through the large drift of glittering snow, Danny had to hop from one of Jazz's bootprints to the other. If he tried anything else, he'd only get stuck, or fall flat on his face. He inwardly groaned.

Darn it, why did Jazz insist on walking across the snowy hill when there was another path home on the _sidewalk_? It annoyed him deeply, but he was still a little frightened of the dark, and certainly frightened at the idea of walking home alone.

The sun was already beginning to sink below a thick blanket of clouds, and the streetlamps of Amity Park were beginning to light up, illuminating the streets below the two children, much to Danny's relief. The lamps were little glowing globes, and they made the snowflakes that drifted around them twinkle, like little falling stars.

Jazz hastily began climbing downhill from the slope, her hands shoved deep in her lavender jacket as she headed towards Harmony Road, the street on which the Fenton children lived. Their home was hard to miss; every window was lit up, and about a dozen satellites and miscellaneous devices on top of their building were either flashing or buzzing.

Danny paused at the top of the hill and looked up at the sky, relishing the quiet freedom he had to himself before he was sent to his room early tonight. The wind whistled from above him, and his coat fluttered wildly behind him, like a pair of wings deadset on taking off into the air. The idea pleased him, and, after closing his eyes, Danny extended out his arms and pretended he was soaring off into the evening sky, the world becoming mysterious and magical all at the same time.

Under the now midnight blue sky, a rare smile escaped him. He was home here. The building below was just where he happened to sleep and eat and be told to stay out of everyone's way. But here was enchanted. He was fairly certain it was, anyway. It was his favorite place to be when the weekend came and he was invariably booted outside to play. He was where he could pretend that he was a prince dullly surveying his new kingdom below or that the gnarled old oak tree behind him was a fierce forest monster that had eaten up Dash, Kwan, and then Tucker as an afterthought, but had spat out the terrified boy because he had tasted nasty.

Or that he wasn't lonely, in the house, or outside of it.

Arms still raised, raven black hair still fluttering, Danny's smile nonetheless faded, and his sad eyes opened. Then, a shout from below startled him:

"HEY!"

Taken aback, Danny glanced down. Jazz was standing at the door of Fenton Works, arms crossed, and while he was too far away to see her face, Danny was certain that Jazz's trademark scowl was on her face.

"Danny, you moron, Mom says we can't have dinner until you get your butt down here and take out the garbage! It's YOUR turn, not mine! Move it!"

Danny stuck out his tongue out at her, knowing it did not matter. With a sigh, he awkwardly began moving down the hill, whimpering as his hands continued to burn. Darn it, but he wished his coat had pockets!

He slowly maneuvered his way home through the snow, soundly regretting having to leave the one Quiet place he knew.

It never occurred to him that someone might be watching him.

(~0*0~)

* * *

><p>"You never listen to a <em>word<em> I say, honest to God, degrading my authority in front of the _children_-"

"Good Lord, Mads, it was just a pair of mittens! They're like a buck fifty at the dollar store-this time, we'll just pin them to his coat so he doesn't lose them! There's no reason to get so _heated_-"

"I'm not heated!"

"Says the woman who's having a fit-"

"Well, what about **you** when Danny brought home that bad test? I was the one who actually offered to get him tutoring, not to LOCK HIM UP in the Fenton Stockades!"

"A couple of hours in there wouldn't do a boy any actual harm-it would just teach him a lesson or two about getting ridiculously easy test questions all screwy! Heck, even **I** could answer those questions!"

"I went over those problems with him," piped up Jasmine, whose attention up till this point had been devoted to her plate. "For about a week. I don't know what happened: either Danny choked or he needs to be sent back to kindergarten. You can do that, right?"

She flashed a small, friendly smile at her brother, her teal eyes sparkling with laughter.

"Don't worry, little brother. I can re-teach you the ABCs."

Mr. and Mrs. Fenton ignored her. Maddie was still glaring at her husband purposefully, unmistakable hurt and anger in her violet eyes. At thirty-one, she was still a very pretty, curvy sort of petite woman whose trim waist was accented by both her aquamarine hazmat suit and her years of teaching karate. Jack Fenton was her opposite: A beefy man whom towered over his family and whose hair was already showing signs of graying in the back. He looked like a giant in comparison to his youngest child, who was hunched over uncomfortably in his seat, blue eyes dully considering his plate, pale fingers clutching his fork, but completely motionless. He was dressed in a dark gray and black wool sweater that seemed at least two sizes too large for him, (Mr. Fenton could never remember the children's sizes when he shopped; that fact had prompted yet another fight between him and his wife last week) and gave the child the peculiar appearance of walking around with a bed sheet around his torso. His dark hair kept falling into his face, but Danny didn't bother to sweep it out of his eyes. If he did, his Mommy would notice immediately, and then tell his Daddy to take him to the hairdresser. Daddy would argue that it was too expensive, and that he could easily do it himself, whereas Mommy would retort that she wanted to send her son to the school looking like a freak, than she could simply drive Danny over to Clown College and have the students cut it themselves. Then Daddy would get angry, yell, storm out, and Mommy would start crying, and nothing could be done with her until tomorrow morning, when she at last retreated out of her room and turned off her soaps.

Danny learned by now that at mealtimes or movie nights with his family, it was better not to move, not to react, not to say anything at all, if he could help it. While this sort of behavior invoked comments from Jasmine (Who suggested that her brother might be somewhat mentally retarded and could he please see a specialist?), and maybe one or two remarks from Mommy and Daddy, they usually left him well enough alone, which was a relief.

Jack Fenton moodily stabbed at a potato on his plate, popping the entire tuber in his mouth and began chewing, sparing a frown for the small boy who sat beside him, stirring around the contents of his plate. After what looked to be a painful gulp, he moved a gloved fist to his watering eyes. "Danny, stop picking at your food and eat it already," he said sternly. "I didn't endure another earful just so that you could-"

"Another_ earful_? From me? Why wouldn't you expect to get an earful, when that bimbo bartender down at the bar gets more of an earful out of you every night on how horrible and ugly your wife is, conveinently omitting the fact that you don't do a lick of work in the lab and break things on a daily basis?"

"Mom, I finished my dinner," said Jazz quickly, keen to break up the fighting. "Can I please have-"

"What's a bimbo?"

The question was out of Danny's mouth before he could stop it. The color drained out of his face when everyone turned to look at him, but his mother's lipsticked mouth just curled into a bitter sneer.

"Yeah, honey. Your son wants to know. What exactly _is_ a bimbo? You would know better than anyone else at this table, I'm sure."

Danny forced himself to swallow his kidney beans, feeling the now tasteless food stick in his throat as Jack quietly lowered his silverware to the table, face unusually fixed, large hands curling into trembling fists underneath the table.

"Yes," replied Jack, after a moment's nasty silence. "Because I'm married to one."

A pause. Then, Maddie's chair scraped back against the floor as the woman hastily stood up, struck her husband across the face, and ran out of the room, sobbing. Jack neither moved nor reacted to the slap, still simply staring across the table. Danny and Jazz were petrified in their seats, and could say nothing for a moment. Then, at last, Jazz tentatively murmured: "Daddy...?"

The man stood up, and strode away, heading towards the doorway. Jazz leapt off her chair to pursue him, and, after some hesitation, Danny did, too.

Jack was standing at the front door, angrily tugging on his coat from the nearby hook, his face beet-red. His daughter anxiously went to his side, and tugged at his coat.

"Daddy. Wh-"

"I'm going out" was the only reply that the girl got as the man fumbled for his RV keys. "Don't wait up."

He gently pried off Jazz's fingers, though the girl still looked unhappy. Then, as the man opened the door and turned around to go, the prodigy child immediately spoke up:

"Daddy, you know I love you more than Mommy, right?"

At this, the man paused. He turned, looked at his daughter, ruffled her carrot hair, and left. After a moment, the two children heard the familiar sound of the RV engine revving to life, and the death trap automobile backing out of the drive, (A distant _thud_ told them that their father had hit the garbage can, as always) and zooming away, the sound of the RV's roaring dying in their ears. Jack had not said a word to Danny.

Jazz turned around to glower at her brother, eyes looking unusually shiny. Then:

"You ruin everything. Mommy and Daddy didn't fight as much when you weren't around. I hate you. I wish you would do us all a favor and die."

With that, Jazz whipped around, nose in the air as she hastily trotted up the stairs, towards the source of all the crying. He could hear his sister calling up the stairs: "Mommy, you know I love you more than Daddy, right?"

He could hear a door close as their mother admitted Jazz into her room, and immediately started crying again, leaving Danny alone in the hall, in the dark.

~(*0*)~

He helped himself to a cookie from the jar, although he wasn't very hungry. After scooting his chair back to its place in the kitchen, (He'd needed some help to reach the counter) Danny wondered vaguely what he was going to do next. Daddy had gone out to that place which made him loopy and smell funny, and more likely than not Mommy was not going to tell her children to get ready for school tomorrow and brush their teeth and go to bed. The night was his to do with as he pleased. He didn't particularly feel like watching TV (There was nothing good on and he always fell asleep around midnight), so he supposed he might as well take inventory of all the groceries that they would need before long. It was a boring sort of job, but Danny had nothing better to do, and he didn't relish the idea of coming home to make yet another icky condiment sandwich. He never got to eat at school (Dash only ever had to open his hand whilst everyone was standing in line), and was usually ravenous when he came home. Daddy didn't like to go shopping until they were quite literally out of everything but baking soda (Which Daddy said made a pretty nifty parfait), and Mommy was often too miserable to, so he usually stuck the list on the fridge with a magnet. Jazz always took the opportunity to needle him about his atrocious handwriting and spelling, and between being teased and starving, he'd take getting teased. Danny's lists were a subtle "hint-hint" for his parents. He wished he were old enough to go shopping himself.

After wandering around the kitchen for maybe a half-hour or so, Danny stuck the completed four-page long list on the fridge, and, pleased to hear the sound of his mother's crying being replaced with the upstairs TV blasting, he hurried upstairs, tiptoed past Mommy and Daddy's door, and happily locked himself inside of his room, feeling secure for the first time that day.

Well, almost. There WAS a strange prickling at the back of his neck that he couldn't quite explain. He shrugged it off as he happily dragged out his treasure trove that he'd squirreled away from the art cabinet at school.

While everyone in class gagged

after Ms. Star had read aloud a story about Valentine's Day during Circle Time, Danny had been secretly fascinated. Not in the dumb, romantic aspects of it, of course (That was an epidemic of cooties just waiting to happen), but...

He had vague memories of celebrating the holiday last year in Kindergarten with his classmates, back to when Dash had been indifferent to him in class, back when he still had Tucker as a friend. He remembered that day well; after coming home from a Valentine party at school, he found that Daddy had made Mommy dinner. Of course_, that_ particular incident meant that Danny had to call the fire department (Yet again; he and Officer Stanley were on a first-name acquaintance), while Daddy tossed the flaming charcoal out the window, but Mommy said she loved Daddy for trying.

There had been no cold-shoulder in the house, no crying, no shouting. In fact, Daddy had brought Mommy chocolate and flowers, and Mommy had seemed unusually perky and giggly the entire day. They'd simply ordered in pizza for dinner, and even had a game night. Not once did Daddy berate him for a bad quiz or Mommy remind him that he had a scheduled playdate with Tucker. Jazz had gotten a valentine from a boy named Roger in her class, and that had put her into such a good mood, she hadn't once called Danny names that day. In fact, she'd been in such a good temper, the child had wondered if perhaps Jazz was seriously ill when she pulled out her crafts supplies-the supplies that she never, _ever_ let Danny touch normally-and proceeded to teach Danny how to make a proper valentine. She said that, once people reached elementary school in Amity Park, people made their own valentines for classmates they really liked, and gave boring store-bought valentines to people they disliked or didn't care about. She had said that the entire purpose of Valentine's Day was showing love to the people who meant the most to you.

The concept had the bitter child's heart perking up hopefully. It sounded so much better than Easter and Christmas and Halloween combined, which admittedly wasn't saying much, considering Danny unconditionally hated all three of those holidays. On Christmas, there were undead turkeys marching about the house, and twelve days of his parents' nonstop arguing about stupid Santa Claus. Danny had agreed with his mother; Santa couldn't exist. According to all the stupid specials on the fat man, he gave coal to bad children, and yet Dash came to school after winter break bragging about the excessive piles of toys he'd gotten from St. Nick. And considering the vast amount of toy drives made during the season were all directed towards the poor, well, either Santa didn't exist, hated poorer people, or was just a heartless sadist. Danny had rooted for the Grinch, up until the point that he'd let him down sorely by picking up that stupid sleigh. And all he ever got for Christmas were presents he'd never wanted or asked for. Easter wasn't much better, considering Mommy and Daddy essentially destroyed all youthful dreams of the Easter Bunny by arguing about him, too. And every Halloween was essentially a nightmare, considering Mommy had to increase insurance coverage every year so that the Fentons were legally covered if Daddy happened to fire ectoblasts at some terrified trick-or-treaters.

But Valentine's Day seemed simple and clean, and it promised what the child inexplicably _craved,_ late at night when he had no one to turn to after a nightmare. He longed for it inexplicably, with every fiber of his being so much so that his soul ached just thinking about it.

Love. The stupid commercials on TV had to ruin a perfectly nice idea by advertising candy and jewelery and getaways and the whatnot, but Valentine's Day was not something that shoved its way down his throat like the other holidays did, forcing him to wander into town like a ghost while his parents shrieked at home. Town admittedly was not much better; there were too many kids his own age who were sitting atop the shoulders of their family members, which inspired him with distress and envy alike. He thought he hated those children. His heart hurt when he thought of them.

But there was hope. If he made valentines for Mommy, Daddy, and Jazz, even though he did not particularly like any of them, they might be softened enough to give him valentines of their own. Danny had never had one before.

A physical token of affection, made by your own hands! It was so beautiful, it made his eyes water.

Danny reached inside the carton and grabbed a piece of red paper, carefully folding it in two. He snipped out a shape, but to his suprise, it came out looking like an oval when he unfolded it. With a sigh, Danny reached for another red sheet, being careful not to cut the numerous holes that covered it like Swiss cheese, and tried again.

And again.

And again.

This was hard.

Still, Danny continued to labor late into the evening, until the scissors slipped from his limp, sore hands, and his eyelids drooped. It was around ten or so that he woke up in bed, somewhat startled.

He'd moved. Someone had touched him. Did Mommy actually come in here? He could still hear the TV going; it didn't seem likely.

He glanced down his front in the dark, slightly confused.

Huh. He hadn't remembered changing into his pajamas.

Or getting into bed.

Or turning off the lights.

He quickly checked underneath his bed, and sighed with relief when he discovered his box was still there. Someone had tucked the scissors on top, so that Danny wouldn't step on the blade and cut his feet when he got out of bed.

Confused, but owing his memory loss to sleepiness, Danny only lay down, and cheerfully crept back into warm slumber, unaware of the two bloodred stones focused on him from his bedroom ceiling.

~(*0*)~

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><p>Later that night, or perhaps early the next morning, he again awoke, this time to the muffled sound of his mother's voice somewhere in the distance. Groggily assuming that his father had come home and that his parents had again begun to yell at one another, Danny turned over under his covers and waited to fall asleep again.<p>

But his mother continued to angrily mumble in the next room, and Danny absentmindedly wondered why he couldn't hear his father. Yawning, and drawing a fist up to his eyes, the child reluctantly sat up in bed, wondering what the fuss was about _this_ time. He waited, concentrating:

"-no. I've told you again and again that you're wrong."

Perhaps she was on the phone with Daddy. Danny was about to turn over again, when-

"You have no right to try and come-in my-cause-pain. Stay away-my family. I'm happy. He's happy."

Another pause. Then a cry.

_"What do you mean, I don't know him as well as I think I do? What have you been doing, **spying** on us? Stay away, I mean it!"_

Startled, Danny found that he wasn't asleep after all, and the small boy blindly scrambled out of bed, nearly knocking his head on the old bedstand nearby. He tiptoed to his bedroom door, and dared to open it a crack. He could hear Mommy next door better now.

"Well, you're just going to have to live with your suspicions, but I...I won't consent to it," he heard Mommy mutter, sounding slightly scared now. "You can't legally force me to. I don't _care_ how much money you have-the courts are going to rule in favor of the ones who've _taken care of him all his life_! I won't have you tearing my life to pieces over this, you pompous sicko! I won't give him to you. I-"

Danny sank down to the floor, and put his hands over his mouth, listening carefully. A pregnant moment of silence. Then, his mother spoke again, this time sounding guilty.

"Look, I-why can't you accept and understand that he's _not_ yours-that he never will be yours? If you're threatening us, I can get the law on my side too, you realize."

Danny crept out of his bedroom, to his parents' bedroom. Thankfully, it wasn't closed; there was a tiny crack in the door. He peered through it, able to see a tiny bit of light from his mother's lamp, and a dark shadow moving around. His mother was pacing, holding her cell phone, and murmuring. He pushed door a hair more open.

"I won't take the test. Even if it was by some cosmic joke _positive_, he still wouldn't be yours. It wouldn't change anything, other than your reputation, which I might mention would be severely botched if the public found out about that night you-you-took advantage of-"

Now Danny could hear a loud sound coming from his phone, and Maddie drew her head away from the speaker, looking pained.

"Yes, yes, alright, alright, I get your point, I get your point! Enough! Now, I-**NO, I WILL NOT LET YOU SPEAK TO HIM**!" she exclaimed, her voice rising to a scream. "Where do you get off of-what do I have to-**ENOUGH**! Knock it OFF!"

Icy water flooded his chest, and Danny gently pushed the door open, trembling with horror.

He understood, now. Mommy was arguing with the bimbo lady she'd spat about before. The one that she claimed was going to steal her husband away from her, even though she was a "_heartless homewrecking leech_," according to Mommy. The lady wanted to steal Daddy away from them, which meant no one to occasionally defend him. No one to stop Mommy's tears with flowers and candy when it got bad enough to the point that Mommy was lying in a comatose ball on her bathroom, unable to move.

They were getting a divorce. If he hadn't lost those mittens to those bullies, he wouldn't have pulled the last straw. It was his fault. Jazz was right: It was entirely his fault, and he wished ardently that he would die. Tears streaming down his face, Danny took a few steps towards his mother, who had his back turned to him, still talking on the phone.

"I love-"

She turned, and her eyes boggled out with horror. Immediately, her hand went to cover the speaker on her cell phone, and she yell-whispered:

"Danny! Go to bed. Right now!"

"Am I in trouble?"

"Go to bed."

"I'm sorry."

His mother frantically gestured for him to go, but Danny only took a few steps forward, tears continuing to spill from his eyes.

"I'll be good. Real good. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I won't lose anything anymore. I-"

"Danny, go-"

"Don't leave Daddy. I'll get a good grade on my tests."

"Danny, I've heard about enough-"

"Please, Mommy, I love you-"

Madeline Fenton dropped her phone on the bed, crossed the room in two strides, took him by the scruff of his neck, and hurled him out of the room. He staggered, tumbled to the floor, and heard the faint sound of his mother locking the door behind him. He wept bitterly, at last retreating to his bedroom, tightly hugging himself. He fell into bed, shoulders wracking with sobs, his pillowcase quickly getting wet under the barrage of hot tears.

* * *

><p>The wind moaned into the night, sounding like a suffering child in a cold cradle. Danny's crying did not let up.<p>

He sobbed into the night, curled up into a fetal position, and cried, and cried. When at last he didn't think he could possibly squeeze out another sob, he lay in the dark, exhausted, wishing over and over again that he would die.

And a very sensible idea soon struck him:

Why shouldn't he die, just right here, right now?

The idea was so clever and reasonable he was baffled he hadn't thought of it before. Slightly startled, Danny rubbed his red eyes, and the tremors shaking his body ceased somewhat. Now, he thought.

On the telly, all anyone ever really needed to die was a quick dose of poison. You fell down dead after choking a little bit and turning colors, then, you just...fell. On the ground, where you didn't move anymore.

What happened after that, he didn't know, but perhaps it just meant nothing. There would be no more Dash making him fear for his life if he simply took care of the problem and didn't exist anymore. There would be no Jazz calling him garbage. No treacherous Tucker. No ear-pulling Kwan. No Mommy hitting him. No Daddy lying on the living room floor, telling him to "sod off" when Danny tried to pull him up again. Just sleep. Just warm sleep, where no one would be able to hurt you or send you store-bought valentines or want you gone.

Sometimes, on _The Three Stooges_, Moe, Curly, and Larry blew themselves up and wound up in a place called heaven. He didn't know much about the place excusing what the Hallmark cards had taught him, but what he did know was that it meant gentleness. Mean people were not allowed. He never tried to be mean. He could go to heaven, if it existed.

Or, he could be a ghost, and go anywhere he wanted. He could fly up and be with the stars, and become the first kid astronaut. He wouldn't be tied down to this awful place. He could make friends with other kid-ghosts. He could be loved.

Excited, Danny made to scramble out of bed, only to have his heart sink before his feet hit the floor.

He didn't have any dynamite, (Though Daddy's experiments might have done the trick) and he was afraid to get skewered through like that one guy in that late night movie he'd made the mistake of watching. And he was fairly positive Mommy and Daddy did not keep bottles of poison in the house.

But there _were, _he reasoned,Things with poison in them!

Danny's heart raced. That nice police officer had come into their classroom to talk about dangerous substances-stuff that people shouldn't touch unless they wanted to get or die or get green hair or something.

Like bleach. Which he _knew_ they had in the house!

He slipped out of bed, and crept off to the bathroom. After anxiously glancing around him, Danny uncertainly opened the little cabinet below the sink, and was well pleased that Daddy forgot to live by "universal housing safety regulations," or whatever the police man had mentioned. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Danny seized the container of bleach by the handle with two hands. It took some work dragging the bulky thing out.

His heart hammered against his ribs like a hummingbird's as he slowly unscrewed the lid. His breathing quickened. This was it. Ugh, boy, but did this stuff stink! He had to turn his head away; his eyes were burning.

Did he grab the cup from his nightstand and pour the stuff into that? Or did he just drink from the bottle directly? Did it matter?

The dim light above him flickered; Danny let out a little whimper as he considered the bottle.

Would it be quick, or very slow? Would he scream when he tasted it, and pit it back out? Would he only get sick, and in trouble? Did poisoning hurt?

He shook, very cold. Maybe this should wait until he learned more about it later. But if he left, he might be too scared to try again. And then he would be truly stuck. Daddy might even get suspicious and move the bottle away, to somewhere he couldn't reach!

What if no one wanted to be his friend when he died? Mommy and Daddy hated ghosts, but they surely wouldn't kill their own son...

Would they?

Could they?

Eyes dewing up with tears once again, Danny closed them, took a deep breath, and told himself to stop being such a baby. He very slowly moved his lips closer to the hole, wincing as his senses were again accosted by the sharp chemicals.

Closer...

Closer...

_"Daniel..."_

* * *

><p>Danny started violently at the sound of his own name; the bottle of bleach fell from his shaking fingers, and tumbled to the floor. The oil gushed out from its side, and suddenly, Danny's head was spinning. He immediately dragged the canister upright, although now it felt like sharp, toxic fumes were flooding into his mouth, making him gasp.<p>

He stood up immediately, only to tumble back to the ground, dazed. He started coughing.

"Daniel, come out. Come out of the room right now. Come to me."

The voice was intoxicatingly smooth and comforting. Danny glanced dreamily around him, feeling a little sick. He could not stop coughing.

The voice sounded like it was coming from beyond the walls. It was smooth and elegant and pleasant, like that of a very well-experienced orator, though there was a bit of an edge to it. Danny drank it in serenely, still coughing as he reached for a nearby towel to mop up the large spill.

"Daniel, please. Please, just leave it. You're going to hurt yourself," pleaded the voice. "Go outside and breathe."

Maybe he had already died and this WAS heaven. Danny did not want to move. Then:

"Daniel. Go outside, I implore you. Go outside before I fetch you myself. Come along, now.

With some difficulty, Danny did at last stumble to his feet, grabbing the sink as a means of support. He slipped out of the bathroom, still coughing, eyes still burning unpleasantly as he slowly made his way downstairs.

He vaguely remembered something his parents had said about strangers, but he didn't know what that was, or care.

* * *

><p>The voice was soothingly guiding him on, advising him to skip the third creaking stair. As if guided by the Piper of Hamelin himself, Danny meekly obeyed its request that he put on a coat before he went outside. The voice was gentle, caressing, and he wanted to be with it as soon as possible. It had cared enough to intervene on his behalf. It must've wanted to be friends.<p>

Danny opened the back door, head clearing somewhat as he inhaled the cold, clean winter air. Senses finally catching up with him, he hesitated at the door, growing scared and glancing uncertainly back at the steps.

Did he dare run for Mommy or Jazzy? He decided he did not. He turned his head back outside, and squinted out into the darkness. Snow was still drifting down. There would be some new fresh mounds for sledding tomorrow. But his wandering eyes found no one.

"Hello?" Danny squeaked uncertainly. He reddened, and tried again:

"Hello? Is anyone out here? Hello?"

But no one answered. Now extremely confused and sorely disappointed, he made to shut the door again. But then-

"_A stranger's just a friend you haven't met_," said The Voice, so clear that it might as well have been speaking in his own ear.

Danny couldn't argue with that logic.

And so with a shiver, he slipped outside.

~(*0*)~

The child wandered around the snowy banks and continued to call out, but The Voice was not answering again. With a sigh, Danny found a particularly fresh patch of newly fallen snow, and carefully fell back against it, moving his limbs back and forth like windscreen wipers.

Again, that perfect, kind voice:

"Are you feeling better?"

Danny nodded absentmindedly. Maybe if he didn't push the voice, it would again start talking of its own accord. He stared up at the now-cloudy heavens, looking for a clear scrap of sky. At last, his eyes alighted on a thin patch of clear sky, where a handful of stars were glittering.

He continued to wave his limbs robotically, gazing at them. The Voice again broke the silence:

"Are you not going to make a wish?"

Danny abruptly stopped moving. Oh. The wishing star. He didn't know which one to look for exactly, and it had never worked before, but he supposed there could be no harm in wishing now. He wondered if the gentle Voice was really the Voice of the stars. The idea was incredibly comforting.

He thought for a moment.

"I wish my parents wouldn't get divorced."

Silence. Danny watched a shooting star silently tumble in a rush of silver above him, and to his surprise, he realized that it didn't really matter to him whether or not his parents got divorced or not. Either way, one parent was going to be miserable in the house, and another one miserable OUT of it. It actually might be a relief more than anything else-at the very least, there would be no screeching or crying or screaming in the house anymore.

Danny carefully flipped out of his snow angel, careful not to ruin it, and turned his attention back to the sky. The stars were still glittering serenely like diamonds above him.

"No, that's not it," he told them. "I changed my mind. I wish...that Dash and his friends would pay for what they do all the time."

But although revenge for several months of agony and humiliation sounded wonderful, he didn't want to waste his wish. Danny drew his head down when a sharp cold gale swept over the area, making his hair flutter wildly again. He quickly shook his head.

"No. No. I mean, I do want that, but I think I only get one wish..."

He swallowed, hard. Then-

"I want to find someone who'll love me. I want to love someone else, too."

The blast of wind died away to a light caressing on his cheek. Danny closed his eyes.

"Um...I know I'm being greedy, and I'm really sorry, but can I just be really specific with my wish? You can, uh, tell me if I'm being greedy or mean or anything. I'm sorry."

The stars remained silent above him. Danny took a deep breath.

"I want someone who'll love me more than anything, someone I can make a valentine for. Oh, and if they don't mind making one for me, that'd also be nice. I've never had one before. Um, please let them be able to scare away closet monsters, and look at my drawings, and play with me. And fly," he added, getting ambituous. "That'd be so cool. I want to love them and make them happy. And..."

His voice died away; a siege of memories had taken his mind by storm.

_Mommy and Daddy not sending him to astronaut camp so that they could send Jazz to ballet classes. Jazz had skipped out on most of her practices, and didn't even show up to her last recital. Daddy promised that the Summer would still be fun, and that he'd play with him every day, but he and Mommy were always either working or yelling at each other. Some nights, Daddy would be out cold on the living room floor, and Danny had to prop pillows underneath him so that he wouldn't get cold._

_Mommy didn't come to his kindergarten graduation because there was a new episode of her favorite drama on during the program._

_Daddy had been drunk when he'd come to Parent's Night._

_Jazz had stomped on his fish Skipper because Danny took the last cookie._

_Jazz never let Danny play with her._

_Jazz who did nothing when people beat him._

_The one time he'd ever fought back and hit her after she was happily pummelling him, Jazz screamed and bit him and wailed so loudly that Danny had been punished for a week. No dessert, no TV, no going outside except for school, no trips to the library. Jazz had also put a rotting banana peel outside his door on April Fool's Day, which had resulted in him falling flat on his face and his getting a bloody nose. Mommy had half-heartedly told Jazzy off..._

_...and laughed at him._

_Danny started breathing very quickly, the world spinning in and out of his eyes. Something hot was spilling down his face, and squeezing his insides. His pulse soared, and he saw red._

_Mommy embarassed him by telling another mother at the clinic that her son was probably never going to be as smart as her daughter._

_Daddy forgot to pick him up one day after a field trip, and he'd had to wait with the janitor for three hours._

_Mommy did nothing but cry about how mean Dash's stepmother was the one time Danny had confided in her about the bullying and she'd called Dash's parents._

_Dash stepped on him._

_Dash pulled his hair._

_He stole his test paper, switched it with his own awful one, and threatened to put gum in his hair if Danny refused to comply._

_He did, regardless._

_He alienated the class away from Danny, who avoided him like plague, or worse, cooties. Dash, who had tripped him, Dash, who had stole his toy rocket, Dash, who had become his "buddy" partner during another field trip, and called out "present" for Danny during roll. He'd been left behind, and the firemen had to drive him home._

_Dash called him a crybaby._

_Jazz called him a baby._

_He'd been left alone._

Face scarlet with rage, Danny opened his mouth and screamed. Screamed in despair, horror, at the unfairness of it all. Screamed that he'd had to convince his mother not to put her head in the oven on particularly bad days. That his one friend had turned his back on him for a couple of sadistic creeps. That he had no valentine, nor anyone to love him. The stars would never change that. Nobody could.

He was trapped. Hopeless.

Throat ready to tear, Danny nonetheless turned his face to the sky, and bellowed:

"AND I WANT SOMEONE WHO'LL GET RID OF DASH AND HIS STUPID, MEAN-HEAD FRIENDS! I WANT SOMEONE WHO'LL MAKE EVERYONE GO AWAY! MY CLASSMATES, MY TEACHER-"

He was crying again now.

"**MY SISTER! MOMMY! DADDY!** EVERYONE, EVERYTHING..."

And his most secret, ghastly wish spilled out of him, the one that had lay in the depths of his lonely and unhappy heart, tormenting him:

"**_ANNIHILATED! I WANT EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING ANNIHILATED_**!"

There was a pause. Danny drew his head back down, and started to cry again. A pair of warm fingertips had taken hold of his chin, and gently drew it up.

Drifting a few feet above the Earth serenely, flesh so blue the Creature looked as if it had died of hypothermia. Its hair was gleaming black, and its eyes were boring into Danny's, great and terrible and bloodthirsty and red. It was smiling in a charming fashion, which was somewhat marred by the fact that sharp canines were glittering under the stars. Dressed in a billowing white and red, it looked like a vampire. Only infinitely more terrible than in any movie he'd ever seen or nightmare he'd ever had. It was slightly hunched, as if in a predatorial crouch, and its velvety voice was so alluring and kind, it was dangerous...

"You only ever had to ask, little badger."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Whew! Hope you guys enjoyed. NO, I do not think small children should talk with strangers, or with deranged spirits, for that matter. Some serious stuff is about to hit the fan...<strong>_

_**Please review! And hoping you and yours get absolutely everthing they want on Valentine's Day. *Smiles pleasantly***_


	2. Story Alert

**Update Alert**:

Hey, everyone. Just wanted to pass the word along that more likely than not, I won't be able to update on Valentine's Day. :( It stinks, and I feel bad, but this week is really, really going to keep me hopping as is, and I'd rather not publish a crappy conclusion because I was trying to juggle a job interview, chores, studying for four exams, a doctor's appointment, and everything else that's coming up this insane week with writing. .

More likely than not my next update will be _The Little Things_, which grew much larger than my expectations. (So far, we're looking at about twenty pages here.) However, just wanted to clarify that yes, I do intend to finish this story and will get to work on it as soon as I can. (Pending reviewer approval. ;) God, I'm horrible...:) )

So yeah. See you later, have a happyful Valentine's Day, and may a windfall of chocolate fall into your lap. *Hugs* ^_^

_**~(*0*)~**_


	3. Flying Paper Cranes

The Tuning Fork

Flying Paper Cranes

(~*0*~)

Hey, everyone. Really glad to work again on this story; I've missed it. Been busy with another sucky week. Blecch. :-p Anyhoodle, I just wanted to get some things straight before you get started. (I realize more likely than not most of you will skip this boring aspect of the story, but please bear with me.)

**Number One: **Yes, you people have convinced me to expand this story. Only because you're cute, mind you. There probably won't be more than another chapter or two after this segment, but that's only because I want this story to have fairly long chapters.**  
><strong>

**Number Two**: No, I do not plan to have a continuation of _The Tuning Fork _after this story. **_However_**, there **will** be a companion piece for _My Fair Lady, _for those of you who are interested. It might be fairly short, mind you, but still…anyone who knows me well knows that I have an irrational and overzealous hatred for sequels of any kind. (Disney sequels in particular make me feel homicidal 99% of the time.) But after much thought (And some grudging, I admit it) I realize that there is nothing _very_ wrong with a companion piece, like the two Pooh books. Let it be known: I love you guys. ^_^

**Numbers Three and Four**: No, Danny is not a psychotic little nutcase filled with hate. He is only very scared, very emotionally damaged, and very human. I hope that this is accurately reflected in the rest of the story. Give him a break-he's only a kid. And for those of you who may have felt I had Danny react like an emotional teenager in light of his suicide attempt, it's a tragic thing, but yes, children do sometimes want to commit suicide. That particular episode was based on a personal experience in my own youth, one which very thankfully failed.

I'd explain the poem to you, but figure you already get what happens. If you have any questions, feel free to ask.

Now that I am (hopefully) done boring you, please enjoy and review!

(~*0*~)

_Next day, her joyful family found,_

_Her father, in the bathtub, drowned._

_The same fate came to all the rest. One by one._

_...how was it done?_

_Theoda, who had wanted curls, now draped her head with strings of pearls._

_And island natives soon took fright_

_When she was seen offshore, at night. _

_-The Tuning Fork, Conclusion._

(~*0*~)

* * *

><p>Strangely enough, breakfast was a relatively quiet affair for the Fentons the following morning. True, Mrs. Fenton kept drumming her gloved fingertips at the table and purposely sending angry, hurt glances at her husband while he kept his red eyes on his plate and pretended not to notice, but there were no angry accusations, snide remarks, or tearful explosions. Jazz was too preoccupied with her cereal (And silently gloating over the fact that she'd sneaked her arm in the box and stole the prize first) to say very much. As usual, Danny was silent at his seat, though his eyes were glowing, and he was anything but still in his thoughts. He absentminded played with his soggy cereal, feeling a wild fluttering in his stomach, as though a torrent of butterflies had been released inside of him.<p>

Maddie took one glance at him, and wearily rolled her violet eyes.

"For goodness sake, Danny, eat your breakfast already. I don't need Ms. Star calling me again about you getting lightheaded at school."

"He's probably still half asleep," offered Jazz, neatly dabbing at her mouth with a napkin once she finished swallowing. "That, or his brain is broken."

"Jazz," interrupted Jack, trying to look stern, though the corners of his mouth were twitching. "That isn't very nice."

The little girl smiled sweetly and said something else, but Danny wasn't listening. He automatically lifted a spoonful of cereal to his mouth, but was so lost in thought that he forgot to open. Milk dribbled down his front as he blankly stared out at the nearby window, at the glittering snow mounds in the backyard. With a voice that was dripping sugar and honey, Jazz said something again, and this time Jack laughed and ribbed at Danny playfully, teasingly asking him some sort of a question. But Danny was still in the clutches of awe, marveling at the unlikely miracle that simply could not be so.

And yet it was, unless the events of last night **had **been a dream, and he simply hadn't woken up yet. He shivered slightly at the thought. If that were the case, he could only pray that he never, ever woke up again. Maybe he HAD died last night and this was his heaven. Only so far, it didn't seem much different than the life he normally led. Go figure.

There was, however, one significant change that had Danny doubting his very existence and the world he lived in. That distortion had been the arrival of a wonderful and dark angel, who had come to visit him in the night. Only perhaps it hadn't been an angel at all; perhaps a fairy. Maybe a superhero of some kind, though he had to admit that his new friend looked more like the _super villains _inside of his comics.

Danny felt a pleasant flush in his face bloom as he repeated the saccharine word in his mind again: _Friend._ Not a traitor or a liar like Tucker; a friend that was friendly and amazing and _nice_ all at once. A friend with a good voice for reading stories and the incredible ability to fly. He'd just been ranting that point at the stars, but they'd really sent him what he wanted; his own wonderful, guardian angel.

Jazz glanced over at Danny at one point, and wondered if her stupid brother had finally gone completely loopy. His blue eyes were lit up like small stars.

(~*0*~)

_Needless to say, he'd been terrified at first. So much so, his knees had very nearly buckled underneath him, and the world had started chaotically whirling about him again. Always in his blurry vision reappeared the red eyes, however, which kept boring down at him._

_It was only his natural fight-or-flight response that prompted him to run instead of faint. He'd tried to scream for help, but had been unable to make a sound; his voice had completely failed on him. In a panic and not thinking, he rushed past Fenton Works as fast as he could wade through the snow, gasping wildly. His throat and his lungs had been on fire as he threw a wild glance behind him, and shrieked._

_The Bad Thing was calmly matching the child's frantic sprint with his own long strides through the snow. The creature's arms had been reaching for him, and the ghost had been gently murmuring his actual name: Daniel._

_Oh, God. It knew his name. He was going to die, albeit a much more painful and frightening end then if he'd simply stayed in the bathroom and finished himself off! The monster was coming directly for him, had lured him outside with his kind and lovely voice, and was now going to **devour him alive**! That, or seize him, fly him high, high off into the air, and drop him from a million miles up..._

_He stumbled a half-dozen times, effectively soaking himself in icy slush, but he kept running, wondering what sort of hell he'd stumbled into._

Unless...

_Unless this was all simply a terrible nightmare. Danny silently implored himself to wake over and over again as he finally reached the plowed sidewalks, and started to sprint. He slipped on a patch of ice once, stumbled, and started again, ignoring the sharp sting in both his little kneecaps. The ghost was still pursuing him, voice still enticing, still pleading, still gentle. The boy kept the memory of those red eyes bleeding into his mind as he ran, knowing that he'd give in and stop if he did not. The blue-skinned wraith called out:_

"Daniel! Daniel! I don't come to frighten you; please, stop! I'm your friend! You called for me!"  
><em><br>Danny's mind whirled as the little boy's pace began to slow, and then picked up speed once again. Certainly the stars would not send a monster for a friend! _

_But **was** he a monster? An alien, maybe? This could very well be another trick or trap, and Danny wasn't going to fall for it!_

**"DANIEL!"**

_The child sprinted into the street, only to promptly freeze as a pair of glaring lights raced at him in the bitter cold. He stopped dead in the middle of the road, eyes the size of dinner plates. His gasping mouth had dropped, and all the remaining feeling had dropped out of his legs. He heard the roar of an engine hurtling towards him, and the shrill sounding of a horn. All the remaining color had poured out of his face._

And then, the world had disappeared from him; he'd been seized out of the street into a pair of strong arms. The royal blue night sky became a velvety scarlet cloth. Wind whistled in his ears and he squeezed his eyes shut as they stung, cold air blustering around him. He instinctively buried his face against a warm surface. The ground had hurtled out from underneath his feet, which now dangled in the air.

_After a moment or so of gasping, Danny kept his face buried in what he now perceived to be white cloth. He didn't know what it was, and didn't care. His lungs still burned inside of him, and his heart was pounding painfully inside. It took him a moment or two of stillness to grasp that the fluttering heart confirmed that he still breathed; he was alive._

_Fearfully, Danny drew out of his place of safety, staring back into those red eyes that had instilled in him such a fright. They surveyed him dryly, only now Danny could see in them an emotion he'd only ever seen in the eyes of other children's parents:_

_Worry. Shaking like mad, Danny lay in the creature's arms, not registering where he was, of what had just occurred. He was mesmerized._

_After a few tense seconds, his rescuer spoke again. Its voice was now irritable, and highly sarcastic. Those were things Danny knew all too well from his own parents._

_"Well? Are you going to keep up this ridiculous game of cat and mouse, or are you going to give me another heart attack, you little fool?"_

_It was growling, and not sounding nearly quite as friendly as it had before. The child wriggled unhappily, not knowing what to say or do. He heard a strange, faint sound coming from nearby, and for whatever reason, the monster was now looking at him with pained, anxious eyes. Although Danny now craved for his rescuer to not look so melancholy, he couldn't help but to drink in the sight, his own heart now feeling like it was on the brink of breaking._

_He dazedly raised a small hand, and awkwardly cupped the startled creature's cheek, patting it affectionately. Looking unnerved for a moment, the creature nonetheless granted him a small smile that had ivory fangs glinting in the light of a nearby streetlamp. A gloved hand started wiping at the boy's eyes._

_"Don't cry, Daniel."_

_Oh. The weird sounds were coming from him. Hot tears had been streaming down his face for some time, now. It was numb with cold._

_Danny glanced curiously about the two, eyes widening when he realized the two were high up in a tree. Gulping slightly, he immediately wrapped his arms around the creature's neck, feeling his chest rumble as the monster chuckled, though not in a mean-spirited way._

_"Don't worry; I won't let you drop. But you'll catch your death out here, little badger. Let's return to the house where we can talk in relative comfort."_

_So saying, Vlad lightly floated away from the tree, and soared into the air, smiling slightly as the stunned child in his arms took in the shrinking world below him with wide eyes._

_(~*0*~)_

_He heard a dog barking far beneath them, and watched the lampposts below turn into tiny lit matches. He savored the sight, marveling at how pretty his little town looked from so far up. This was magical. He wondered briefly if he had died from inhaling the bleach or had been hit by that car, and Vlad was an angel sent to take him...wherever people like him went where they died._

_But as strange and surreal as everything was, he could no longer deny that it felt all too real. If the cold air whipping around his icy skin did not do the job, the creature's arms wrapped securely around him were far too solid and substantial to be dreamlike._

_The six year old cast the figure holding him an awed glance. While he still found him slightly scary, he was kind; an angel who had saved him not once, but twice. Maybe he had been sent by the stars. He'd never actually specified what he wanted his new friend to look like, and he did not at all want it to matter. Still freezing, the boy instinctively curled closer to the creature's warm body, shivering slightly. The creature had a sharp, debonair scent that made his nose tingle a little. He sneezed._

_"Excuse me?" asked Danny timidly, as the two began to soar towards the ground of Danny's backyard. "Mister, what's your name?"_

_"Vladimir, Daniel."_

_"Your name is Vladimir Daniel?"_

_The creature snorted as he lightly landed, setting the boy down and affectionately ruffling Danny's wet hair._

_"Just 'Vlad,' little badger. Now, are you al..."_

_Vlad trailed off into silence, and quickly knelt, brow furrowed. Curious, Danny followed his gaze and immediately looked away, feeling slightly sick. He'd torn holes through the knees of his pants, and he could see red dully shining in the dim light from the window. He swallowed heavily, and bit his lip to keep himself from crying again. Vlad sighed._

_"Dear, dear...we will have to clean this up, won't we? Don't worry, son. I'll bandage it up momentarily after your bath."_

_"Bath?" Danny asked, bemused as Vlad again picked him up. "Why..."_

_"You'll need a hot one, before you catch your death," said the man simply, still not looking very happy. "Which, it seems, you already attempted to catch twice this evening. You and I have some discussing to do before this night is over."_

_'Discuss' was a word he'd heard his parents use often, and it was never a good thing. Halfheartedly, he tried wriggling free from the man's grasp, but it was futile endeavor. But his dread was eclipsed by shock when his new friend promptly passed them through solid wall._

_~(*0*)~_

_He worried that Mommy or Jazzy might have heard his screams from outside, but there not a sound came from Jazz's room, and the TV was now blasting again in Mommy's room. Must be a late-night move marathon. To his surprise, he saw Vlad give Mommy's door a contemptible and disgusted look as they zoomed up the stairs._

~(*0*)~

_It had been quite some time since someone had drawn a hot bath for him. Jazzy normally took all the hot water she wanted when she took her evening bubble baths, but thankfully, it appeared she'd spent the evening watching Randy confess to Michelle about confessing about Donna who'd confessed to Michelle, or something like that. He'd been shaking like a leaf with cold after stripping down and changing into his bathing suit, and having warm, bubbly jets of water massage his chapped skin felt like paradise. It had even felt good on his poor, bloody knees, which Vlad had coated in some sort of weird, glowing green paste that had made his injuries sting quite a bit at first. But soon enough, the pain of his scratches washed away to a cool, numb relief that had him wriggling with joy._

_At least until Vlad had insisted that he start scrubbing behind the ears. Oh, well. After falling in several grimy, slushy puddles, it felt good to be clean._

_But to his confusion, he noticed after awhile that Vlad was not smiling nearly as much as he was. Red eyes were fixed on the ugly bruises, scabs, and scratches that littered his pale torso and shoulders. Just as Danny was about to ask what was wrong, Vlad softly asked:_

_"Daniel. Did someone hurt you?"_

_Danny kicked his feet in the warm soapy water, not looking at the man._

_"Uh, well, yeah. Don't worry, though. They do it all the time."_

_"Who's 'they?'" the ghost demanded, his rich voice not sounding nearly so nice anymore. It sounded threatening. It sounded frightening. It sounded like every other grownup's voice in Danny's life, besides the fact that it was actually asking him about Dash._

_Why did Vlad have to talk about this and spoil a perfectly lovely evening? Danny looked at his feet underwater and stubbornly decided not to answer. But then a single fingertip gently drew Danny's face up, and the child found himself looking into the specter's gentle red eyes again. He wavered. Vlad gently asked:_

_"You mentioned in your wish...a 'mean, dumbhead Dash and his friends.' Daniel, is this boy Dash in your class?"_

_Danny tried to speak, failed, and simply nodded, suddenly very interested in his reflection on a bubble's surface. But the man would not let it drop:_

_"His friends...are they you classmates as well? Do they pick on you, also?"_

_Danny nodded._

_"Why? You are a perfectly kind young boy. Why have you not gone to your teacher, to your principal, to your par..." Vlad's voice died away on the last word, and he cast a sympathetic glance at the child who was red as a poppy from Vlad's compliment. Much to his embarrassment, he felt like crying again, and sinking below the warm water where Vlad couldn't question him, anymore. At last, to break the silence, somehow knowing that Vlad was not going to let this drop, Danny reluctantly answered:_

_"My teacher doesn't believe me, and the fact that her Daddy works for Dash's Daddy doesn't help. Dash just gets more people to hurt me before and after school, and during recess if I tell anyone. I don't know why he hates me, but he takes my lunch money every day and calls me things that I hear grownups calling each other on TV when they're very mad sometimes. Dash puts gum in my hair and his friend Kwan says that I'm dumb and he jumps up and down on my back, which hurts a lot. Tuck..."_

_His voice cracked, and raised an octave higher._

_"Tucker used to be my friend, but know he pays Dash and Kwan every day so that he can hang out with them and look cool. He does whatever Kwan and Dash tell him to do. He bites me and says that I won't ever have any friends, because I'm not smart like him and I'm ugly and I'm bad and Mommy and Daddy won't do anything about the bullying because they say it's my fault for not being a nicer playmate. Jazz tells them things so that they don't do anything, and they don't do anything anyway, except yell at each other. Mommy throws things and lies on the floor watching bad TV all night, and Daddy goes out to someplace in town that makes his eyes red and makes him weird when he comes back. He sometimes falls asleep on the ground outside our door, and I have to help him in or throw a blanket over him so he won't get cold. Dash says the reason why I can't bring clean clothes to school is because I'm bad, and my parents are gonna sell me to a circus first chance they get, because..."_

_Now Danny's vision was blurry with tears, and his voice failed on him. He hugged his knees and buried his face against them. Immediately, a pair of warm arms fell around his wet shoulders again._

_"Daniel...Daniel, love..."_

_Now Vlad's voice sounded tender and sweet instead of rough and dangerous. Danny reluctantly peered out between his hands, and was surprised when Vlad pulled him into a tight hug. Didn't he care that he was getting all wet?_

_"Daniel, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. I swear I didn't know. If I had ANY idea, I'd...come now, little badger, please don't cry. If you do, I might as well, and then we'd be in a real pickle, hmm?"_

_Danny managed a shaky smile, but still didn't look up. Vlad continued:_

_"If you like, I can grant a part of your wish as soon as tomorrow. If you will simply give me a description of the boys, I will gladly kill them all."_

_The room got very still. Danny's mouth dropped with alarm, and he looked up, goggling at the ghost who again looked like a butcher set for massive carnage. He managed a high-pitched laugh._

_"I...you...wha?" he asked weakly, wondering if this were some kind of joke. "I...I..."_

_"You did make a wish, did you not?" asked Vlad seriously, gently cupping Danny's wet little face with his gloved hands. "I heard you. I want to help you. Tell me who they are, Daniel, and I will annihilate them for you. If you like, your sister can go into the bargain to, and I'll snap her little neck-"_

_"No!" Danny cried out, and Vlad immediately threw an anxious look at the door. Dismayed, he immediately scrabbled back to the other side of the tub, wondering if now was a good time to scream again. Vlad's hand flew over his mouth before he could however, and Danny was left staring up at the creature, petrified. Immediately, Vlad's eyes became sad again._

_"Oh, Daniel," he moaned. "The last thing I want is for you to fear me. That was only the wish I heard; I will not hurt anyone if such is your wish. I promise. I promise. I won't ever hurt you, or harm anyone around you with just cause. That's a promise. "_

_Vlad was looking awfully sincere, and Danny admittedly felt a little better. He'd only made the wish out of sheer anger, and while the idea of Dash, Kwan, and Tucker never hurting him again was an awfully appealing one, he knew he could never live with himself if he set Vlad on anyone._

_The idea of setting Vlad on anyone like a doggy made Danny smile from under Vlad's hand, and the man gave him a gentle one in turn, though he still looked a bit worried._

_"I'm going to remove my hand, now. If your mother or sister comes in, I will have to disappear immediately. Do you understand, Daniel?"_

_He nodded. Vlad carefully withdrew his hand, and Danny resumed playing with the bubbles. They enjoyed a few long moments of stillness together, broken only by the occasional sound of Danny splashing. After a moment, he piped up:_

_"Vlad?"_

_"Mmmm?"_

_"Are you a fairy of some kind?" Danny squeaked, scrunching up his face as his rescuer drew a warm, wet washcloth around his eyes. He'd always pictured fairies to be petite and more sinister-looking, like Tinker Bell._

_The red-eyed man gave him an amused glance, but said nothing for a moment as he leaned back, and watched Danny absentmindedly play with a small toy boat the child certainly didn't remember having._

_"...if you wish me to be your fairy, I suppose I may not mind," he said simply, smiling down at Danny's curious glance. "I think, however, I might prefer another title...perhaps you should try again."_

_Danny thought for a moment as Vlad busied himself with washing Danny's spiky midnight hair, placing a wet hand over his eyes so that he wouldn't get soap in them._

_"An angel?"_

_Now Vlad laughed; a warm, delightful sound that Danny loved immediately. After a few bouts of hearty laughter, he gently moved Danny's head back, and began to wash the suds away._

_"Well...I think that would vary on what_ sort _of angel you meant," he commented, now rubbing sweet-smelling, violet-covered goo on the crown of Danny's head. "I would not be a very good angel, at least, in the_ traditional _use of the word."_

_Danny leaned into the gentle touch, frowning slightly._

_"What do you mean?"_

_"Perhaps you might want to try something else," Vlad offered again._

_The small boy thought as he stirred the bubbly water around, considering possible ventures. A guardian angel? A vampire? God, he hoped not. A monster? He supposed he could live with that. But why throw out random questions when he could simply ask him?_

_"...Vlad, what would YOU call yourself?" he asked curiously, as Vlad lay him back in the tub, and started to rinse his hair again. He thought for a long time before he answered, expression becoming grave._

_"Your parents would either call me a despicable ghost or a dear old friend. It would depend on...ah, the light they saw me in."_

_Danny looked at him, now more confused than ever. Vlad continued:_

_"Your sister would almost definitely call me a dreadful terror; a bugaboo."_

_"What's that?" asked Danny, marveling over the funny word._

_"A monster," replied Vlad, not so cheerfully. "And Dash and his friends would think much the same. Were it not for your mercy, they could also call me their executioner."_

_A chill went down Danny's spine, though he was soaking in hot water. Vlad went on:_

_"As for what I would call myself," he said mildly. "I would very much like to call myself your_ friend."

_"W-what would you like me to call you?" Danny asked, after a moment's hesitation._

_Vlad tenderly drew a hand through Danny's gleaming wet hair, and replied:_

_"Your father."_


	4. Bleeding Paper Hearts

The Tuning Fork

Bleeding Paper Hearts

~(*0*)~

I certainly did miss this story. *Hugs it.* Sorry for taking so long to finish this up…I said by the end of Valentine's Day and Easter's over. Don't knock the college student.

By the way, Morton's Toe Syndrome is real. Not making up random genetic anomalies here.

Large paragraphs are large. Vlad talks a lot. Sorry. T_T He's got some 'splaining to do.

Some stuff happens in this chapter. Please review if you like stuff. (Okay, and faster updates.)

(~*0*~)

* * *

><p><em>Next day, her joyful family found,<em>

_Her father, in the bathtub, drowned._

_The same fate came to all the rest. One by one._

_...how was it done?_

_Theoda, who had wanted curls, now draped her head with strings of pearls._

_And island natives soon took fright_

_When she was seen offshore, at night. _

_-The Tuning Fork, Conclusion._

(~*0*~)

* * *

><p>When the water was drained and Danny rubbed off with a white towel, (Vlad thought that he looked remarkably like a rosy polar bear cub wrapped up in it) the ghost carried Danny to his room, choosing to fly rather than risking stepping on creaky floorboards.<p>

Danny said nothing as Vlad wrapped the covers back over his body, staring down at his little enfolded hands. The silence between the two hung for awhile, and when Vlad could no longer bear it, he cleared his throat uncomfortably and looked away, cursing himself.

"…..are you alright, Daniel?"

"I like 'Danny' better," said the child, avoiding eye contact with the man. "'Daniel' is what my parents call me when I'm in trouble."

He looked up at a peculiar crack on the ceiling, and turned his head slightly, squinting at it. It was a sort of game of his, to try and deduce what the lines best resembled. Sometimes it was a pentagon. Other times it was a barn. Once, it had looked like a duck to him, but he couldn't remember which way he'd looked at it.

He shyly drew his eyes back to Vlad, who was also staring at the numerous cracks, looking unhappy.

"But you can call me 'Daniel' if you want."

The boy hadn't answered him. Did he keep pursuing the subject, or did he just leave the child alone?

Vlad just nodded absentmindedly, and turned towards Danny's mostly empty bookshelf.

"….yes, well…would you like me to read you a story?"

"Not really," said Danny indifferently. "I've read those four about a million bajillion times. Sometimes we go to the library, but not so much anymore because Jazzy lost an expensive book that she said I colored in."

"Did you?"

"No. She dropped it in a puddle by accident. So Mommy and Daddy say no more checking out books."

Again, a pause. Vlad was unnerved by how gravely and matter-of-fact the boy spoke; he sounded like an adult that happened to have a tiny voice.

"Can I get you some water?"

"No thanks."

"What would you like to do now, my boy?"

"Sit," Danny said simply. "I want to hear more about you."

Vlad swallowed, but he did sit down on the bed next to Danny. After a moment's pause, the child cuddled close to his side and he instinctively wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

"What would you like to know about me?"

Danny stared at him for awhile, head slightly cocked. Then, words came spilling out before he could stop them-

"You said you would be anything I wanted you to be. So what if I want you to be an angel?"

Taken aback, the ghost simply replied, "Then I will hold true to my word, and be your angel. I don't have to wear a white dress, sprout wings, and learn to play the harp, do I?"

Danny giggled as Vlad playfully poked him on the nose, and batted his hand away.

"No, no. That's weird. The way you talk is weird. But it's wonderful. I like it."

"Well, thank you very much."

Danny smiled for a moment, but it soon faded away again. He sighed, and then asked:

"How can you be my Daddy? Lots of the people on Mommy's shows get angry and say things about people having the wrong person's kids-I dunno what that means-but I know kids look like their Daddies. And, um, I, well…."

The man sighed, kissed him on the forehead.

"….you're right," he said, ears coloring. "I know it's difficult to believe, Daniel, but this isn't my…my natural form."

"Then what is?" asked Danny, uneasily shifting away. "Are you lying to me?"

"Oh, no, Daniel, never think that!" exclaimed Vlad sincerely. "I would never lie to you. It's just….I….well….."

He took a deep breath. Even if Danny saw him for what he was and told people about it, people would simply assume the child was making up stories. Who was going to believe a little boy spreading about wild stories about businessmen transforming into….what he was?

Nonetheless, Vlad felt deeply uneasy as a pair of black rings flashed at his waist, and abruptly split away to reveal a tall man with silver hair, and dark blue eyes. Away went the ghost's blue skin and red and white outfit-now the simple human was wearing a tuxedo with a ribbon at his neck.

Stricken, Danny's mouth dropped, and he made to run out of bed. Vlad seized him by the hand.

"Don't be afraid of me, Danny," implored the man, in Vlad's voice. "It's me. I'm Vlad."

The boy trembled, and watched as the man abruptly transformed back into Plasmius without a word. But now, he was more confused than ever.

Vlad's skin looked like his own. His eyes were darker than his, and more heavily lidded, but…

Danny felt a knot tighten in his stomach, and he turned his face into Plasmius' chest. The man started, but uncertainly put his hands on the boy's shoulders.

"How did you do that?" asked the boy, sounding muffled. "Is it something angels can do?"

Vlad opened his mouth, closed it, and nodded when Danny pulled away again, eyes red. Horrified, Vlad inwardly cursed himself for being an idiot. What sort of _bombshell_ was that to drop on their first meeting-to a _child_? He'd been so eager to claim the child as his own that he very possibly alienated the boy from him! What sort of depraved, heartless, _idiot_ was he, anyway?

The boy stared dully at the wall, despite Vlad's attempts to get his attention. At last, he bit the inside out his mouth, and said "Daniel" over and over again until the boy at last looked at him again. The man pulled Danny into another hug.

"Daniel, do you realize how these things….happen?"

Danny wiped his nose, but remained stiff.

"….sort of. In Mommy's shows, people get married. Then, they get kids. Were you married to Mommy?"

"No," said Vlad sadly. "Daniel, when two people decide to….ah…."

Vlad awkwardly rubbed the back of his head, ears turning purple as he flushed. The kid was way, way too young for this sort of talk. But he owed the boy an explanation, at the very least.

"….well, sometimes, it's not a decision. When two people…do activities together, share a bond together, things…._happen_, for better, or for worse."

"Like they play nice, or don't play nice?"

"….something like that. Sometimes, truly marvelous and fantastic things happen because of this bond, and at other times, something truly awful might come around as a result. Do you understand what I mean, little badger?"

Danny wondered vaguely where the name "little badger" came from. He supposed it did not matter; he liked it.

"...I guess," he said hesitatingly, turning around to better look at the ghost. "Um, but what kinds of bad things can happen?"

Vlad sighed, and rocked the two back and forth soothingly.

"If two people commit to this act, they may take a vow to do it with no other person," he said, smoothing Danny's wet hair. "Which is where marriage comes in; you agree to play a certain game-which is by no means a game-with only one person. They become very angry or heartbroken when the pact is broken and a partner decides to do it with another. People may do this act of love for entirely wrong reasons, or, they might be faithful to one another and yet still produce something nasty into the world. Your sister would be prime example."

Danny giggled; he couldn't help it. Then, a thought entered into his head:

"So...Mommy's sad all the time because she thinks Daddy is doing whatever it is grownups do with other people?" he reasoned.

Vlad stared soberly down at the young boy, and then kissed him on the forehead.

"...I suppose so. This story does begin with your parents, so I suppose this is as good a time as any to begin this story..."

"When Jack and Maddie married each other and swore to be true to each other, they were very happy." Vlad sounded all of a sudden as if he'd been forced to swallow something very bitter.

"And as a result, Jasmine was soon born as a result of this bond. But after awhile, your mother became very _un_happy. She was tired all the time, and never allowed to do the things she liked best to do. Jasmine demanded a lot of her time and attention, and Jack began to be absent more and more often. When she was exhausted, and he was fooling around, as is his wont, she lashed out at him without meaning to. Now _Jack_ started to become unhappy."

"Unhappiness spreads," said Danny sadly, and the man nodded sincerely.

"Jack began to frequent the shady places of the world where bonds classified by the ring of his finger often mean nothing. Madeline was alone in her house, having to do all the cooking, the cleaning, the repairing of things Jack broke so often, and the tending of a baby who screamed a great many hours of the day. She grew very unhappy, and, one night, she decided she'd had enough. She left Jasmine with a sitter and ventured out to visit another unhappy man who loved her dearly."

"Why didn't she decide to change her bond, and bond with him?"

Vlad's voice was very quiet when he responded:

"She preferred Jack, until this point. She and this man did the act of love, which resulted in Maddie's shame and horror when it was over. She'd broken her vow. The unhappy man who'd been so happy to have her that night was heartbroken when she insisted that it had been but a simple tryst; that she did not ACTUALLY love him-that it was a tremendous mistake. She told HIM to stay away from her and her family, and so, she left the man, who was now in the unhappiest days of his life."

"The man was you, wasn't he?" Danny's voice was not accusing. Vlad nodded. When the man found his voice again, he went on.

"And so, that act produced a beautiful child nine months later. Your father sent me a card with the details, and I then realized that something did not match up, particularly when I saw your little toes, and your neck."

Confused, Danny wriggled his ten toes from underneath the blankets. Vlad went on gently:

"Daniel, do you ever remember hearing about your older sister's surgery?"

Danny had, although he wasn't supposed to talk about it. Like Daddy, Jasmine had been born with her second toe larger than her big toe. Daddy had never bothered to get his 'fixed,' but Mommy had been distressed with the idea that Jazz might be labeled a freak at school, so when Jazz was two, they took her in for cosmetic surgery to make her little and big toes look like everyone else's. He related the story aloud.

Vlad nodded.

"Your father's trait is unusual…and genetic. Which means that if he has it, the child he has will receive it also," he explained patiently. "It's a medical term known as 'Morton's Toe Syndrome.' All of your toes were completely normal, and you have a birthmark on the back of your neck like mine."

"You do?" Vlad turned around and Danny ran his fingertips over it. "Cool."

"Yes. I was suspicious, especially about the timing. I last saw your mother nine months ago, which is the amount of time a baby usually takes before they come into the world. Your mother insisted that you were Jack's son, and I was violating our agreement by phoning her. At last, I consented to let the matter drop after she insisted that she had done tests and learned that her son was Jack's baby. I was very sad to hear this, but I believed her. She knew what I would have done if I had gotten wind that you were my son."

A pause.

"What…what would you have done?"

"Gotten the best attorney in the country to sue for paternal rights," said Vlad sadly, ruffling Danny's hair when the boy gave him a bewildered look. "It means that your mother, father, and I would have gotten in a great big fight before a judge, who handles such cases. I would've hired someone very good at arguing to convince the judge that Maddie had taken my child away from me. I most likely would have won the case, considering that your parents would have had trouble focusing on finding a good lawyer."

"Why?"

"Because if Jack heard that his former best friend was claiming that Jack's son was _his _baby, he would naturally want a test to be done to confirm whether or not you were his son or not. Trust is greatly shaken during these sorts of things, because people get very upset with each other when they realize someone had broken a vow. I figured Maddie had not told her husband about her cheat because she was frightened of losing him. If Maddie had taken the test and it revealed that you were not his, he would have been devastated. If she refused to take the test, that would mean that she was either frightened of the answer or already knew the truth. Either way, she would have been trapped if the baby was not Jack's. But I believed your mother, and dismissed my fanatical ideas as hopeless hope."

Vlad's eyes became cloudy.

"It is my greatest regret that I did; I learned a few weeks ago that your mother lied about the tests. At the time, I was afraid of ruining your mother and earning her spite for breaking her marriage, as well as putting her son through a tremendous amount of suffering. Your father might resent you for being the son of a man who made a mistake, but I-"

Vlad stopped dead as horror overtook him. Little pearls were streaming down his pale, distraught face.

"Oh, cut out my tongue….." he whispered. "Daniel, I didn't mean it that way! Oh, please don't cry-you were what I always wanted, what I was always thinking about when I was flying around the world, trying to forget my grief! I thought of you often, and wished you were my son-I thought about you more than Maddie, and looked back only on missed opportunities and broken dreams! Then, when I came back from my company in England, I decided I could stand it no longer and went to see you, myself unseen. You seemed so unhappy, but your mannerisms were so like my own at your age that I took a bit of hair from your brush, and had it tested myself by experts; I was thrilled and enraged to discover that you _are_ my child-oh, butterbiscuits, Danny, I mean that I was enraged at your _mother_ for lying to me, NOT because we're related!"

But the boy was frozen, though silent sobs were rumbling in his chest.

"M-Mommy doesn't want me. I'm not like Jazzy. She hates me. She h-hates me! That's why she acts the way she does now! She's sad because I'm a _mistake_! My mommy and daddy didn't have a bond between them, so that's why I have no friends! Because I'm _not good_! I-I-I…"

Vlad pulled him into a bone-snapping embrace, and rocked the boy back and forth as Danny started sobbing wildly into his shoulder.

"Oh, I am a fool," said Vlad despairingly, more to himself than anything else. "I didn't mean to cause you any harm, yet I did. Daniel, Daniel, I'm sorry, I'm sorry you found out this way. I was afraid to approach you with the truth and hurt you with it, though I so _badly _wanted to be able to see you; take care of you. Maddie and Jack's marriage has all but collapsed under the demons that they themselves have-never think for an _instant_ that they are _your_ fault. If Madeline consented to do what she did with me, and your father insists on doing what he does, this reveals that their vows were hurting for a very long time. You were born out of two people seeking solace, _giving_ solace, which is just about the best sort of thing one person can give to another. I _never _regretted my time with Madeline, despite the heartache that I felt later on out of missing her. It was that precious to me, just as _you_ are precious. Oh," he said sadly, when Danny wildly shook his head, "_Never_ think otherwise. I won't condone it. Ever."

The man leaned his head back and squeezed his eyes shut.

"Later on, I realized _you_ were my wish. Someone I could earnestly love and be responsible for-to _protect_. When I came to see you, I was _appalled_ by how….lemon custard…."

Vlad smacked himself upside the head as Danny's sobs grew louder. But the words he'd wanted to say for so long would not cease, despite his very best attempts to control them. He had to calm the boy down, for both their sakes.

"I'm worried about you, Danny," said Vlad hoarsely, still rocking the two back and forth. "You seem so lonely, and I can't bear the idea of you growing up to be like me. I want you to be happy. For blasted sakes, I want you to be able to come home without being afraid! I've seen the rare instances when you laugh, and it dazzles me every time! It's _beautiful_. I want you to laugh more, and I want you to be able to be a young boy. I want you to have everything you need, regardless if you want to live with me or find another warm, unbroken home." The sacrifice was evident in Vlad's voice, but the man impatiently shoved it away. "_I love you_. If you want me to leave, say the word, and I'll never bother you again. Just please tell me what you wish for, Danny. _Please_. You're the last person I'd ever, ever want to hurt."

Vlad ran his fingers in Danny's hair when an answer was not forthwith coming, sick with dread. He'd gone too far. His son would hate him for scarring him forever, and-

"You….you'd really let me stay with you?"

Vlad froze, stopping his ministrations immediately. Danny could not have said what he had said, because it was impossible, because he meant something else, his voice was muffled, and-

Danny raised his watery eyes to the man, looking exhausted. But now, his hopeless eyes had some spark returned to them.

"I can come with you?"

Throat tight, Vlad had nodded.

"I promise to explain to you what I am someday, Daniel…. But if you think you can be happy with one such as myself….if you think you can grow to like-"

"Oh, I love you already," said Danny dismissively. "And you're an angel, because you said you'd be one if I wanted. When can we go?"

~*o0o*~

_End Flashback._

Last night had been magical-Vlad had cried, but he said it was because he was happy. He'd rocked Danny to sleep and sang some strange lullaby that he said his mother had sang to him back home in Russia, before the family had immigrated to the U.S. The words hadn't made any sense to Danny, but they were spoken so tenderly and with so much promise that he'd fallen asleep almost immediately, despite his resolve to stay awake for as long as possible.

When he'd woken up, Vlad was gone, much to his great and terrible disappointment. But now, while Jack and Maddie were bickering over who had to do the breakfast dishes, Danny was reading the note he'd found on his bed for the fourth time:

_"Son-  
>If you wish to come by my side, give me one week. This will take some time, but you are most definitely worth it. Have a good day at school. Remember: There's no need to fight fire with fire when you can just as easily fight fire with water."<em>

-Love, Vlad

It hadn't been a dream. He finally believed it.

"What are you reading, dumbotron?"

"A letter to my teacher," Danny lied, pretending to offer it to his sister as the two put on their hats and boots by the front door. "I would like you to read it, please."

"As if," Jazz scoffed as she straightened her sparkly hat. "I'm not going to read your dumb baby writing-I could find something better in a fortune cookie."

Danny turned around and smiled; if he'd tried to hide it, Jazz would have immediately wrestled it away from him and ran it to their parents, breathless with the excitement of tattling. Television wasn't completely useless-it at least taught him the merits of reverse psychology.

Jack and Maddie were still arguing in the kitchen when Danny grabbed his backpack, and looked toward the kitchen where they still were, feeling doubt plague his thoughts for the first time. Could he really leave them? Just like that? Both Mommy AND Daddy-but-not-Daddy? They had raised him. They had-

The sound of a breaking plate, and a shriek.

"THAT WAS MY MOTHER'S, BUTTERFINGERS!"

"Oh, come ON, Mads, is a woman six feet under REALLY going to care about some stupid ceramic she bought back in the sixties?"

"You are _so_ insensitive!" howled Maddie. "AND clumsy! You left the bathroom window open all night, and it smelled like someone had spilled bleach again-what, did you pass out in your own sick again?"

Danny and Jazz all but ran out the door. Danny had to admit later on that the first plague of doubt did not last very long.

~*0o0*~

The message was carefully folded in Danny's breast pocket, where it remained close to his heart. The child skipped joyfully ahead of his sister through the glittering snow, beaming as he hadn't for a long, long time. The cold, wintry air seemed to have the sparkly edge of hope to it, and Danny took eager gulps of it as he hurried to school, blissfully daydreaming.

No more shrill accusations and cold eyes filled with bitterness. No more Jazz picking on him and calling him nasty names. No more cold TV dinners he had to thaw out by placing them near the radiator. No more Dash beating him around the head every day. No more Tucker to help pull his ears and throw his books into dirty puddles and then pretend to play nice at play dates. No more days living in fear. No more Mommy hitting him or Daddy shunning him...

Danny scrambled towards school, humming merrily, cheeks rosy. Vlad genuinely seemed to want him; to believe that Danny was his own. Now, for the first time, he had someone he really wanted to make a valentine for. He'd ask Ms. Star to show him how to cut a paper heart, and maybe he could write a poem by himself, and make the card black and covered with yellow glitter and make a paper sun and a paper moon and...and...

"HEY, FENTINA!"

The happy, blooming flowers inside of him were abruptly covered in frost. Danny stopped dead in his tracks, breath hitching sharply at the all-too familiar sounds of jeering coming from across the street. He didn't want to look; didn't need to look. His knees trembled, and his mouth abruptly went dry.

"Hey, stupid! Are ya so stupid ya can't understand anything, stupid?" he heard Kwan merrily call out. He heard Tucker snigger from somewhere nearby, and Danny's eyes narrowed in anger as they at last unwillingly moved towards the schoolyard, where Dash and his cronies were waiting. Dash was smirking, leaning against a nearby wall, looking like a smug cat that's eaten the canary.

Dark, hot fear filled Danny's senses for a moment, and was at once evaporated by a mist of sheer resentment and fury. His little cold hands curled into fists, and he scowled at the boys, shaking with rage.

This was supposed to be the best day of his life. These boys, whom Danny had never done ANYTHING to, had no right to come in and cause him pain! They had no RIGHT to steal from him, to bully him, to step on him like he was some piece of garbage! For the first time, Danny believed that he _wasn't_garbage, regardless of how his family treated him or how his schoolmates shunned him!

Dash was staring at him, and he obviously didn't like what he saw. Instead of cowering, and obediently approaching with sagged shoulders like a sorry dog, Danny was giving him the dirtiest look he'd ever received. He growled slightly, and took a step forward, mean purple eyes fixed on the boy.

"Come here," he commanded, sounding all the while like a general very used to people following his orders.

Danny just glared at him, and stood his ground. Dash seethed.

"I SAID, COME HERE, STUPID! **COME! HERE**! I'm GOING TO BEAT YOU STUPID IF YOU DON'T, STUPID!"

"You'll beat me, anyways," said Danny coldly, refusing to move.

Kwan cast his best friend a staggered look, but Dash was already running across the schoolyard, howling in rage. After glancing at each other in bewilderment, Tucker and Kwan raced behind the blonde, all dead-set on making the boy suffer, and suffer horribly. Hatred flared in their eyes, and Dash was looking particularly hungry to make Danny bleed, to make him bruised, to make him suffer.

How dare he. How dare he, a rat who took up valuable space and air, make their job harder for them?

Danny staggered a step back, and felt the note rustle in his pocket. No need to fight fire against fire when you can just as easily use water.

No one was going to hurt him ever again. He'd tell Vlad about this, and make his Daddy proud.

Danny immediately scooped snow into his hands, and, upon seeing a little stone lying on the ground, immediately packed it inside. He stood up, heart racing as they zoomed towards him, faster and faster and closer and closer-!

With a deep breath, Danny raised his arm back, and took careful aim.

And the snowball went hurling towards Dash Baxter's face.

**SMACK!**

It was a perfect bull's-eye; Dash fell to the ground, screaming in pain, hands flying towards his left eye. He writhed, shouting and roaring so loudly that several students ran running across the playground to see who was being murdered. Kwan and Tucker stopped dead in their tracks, huffing and puffing as they stared at Danny, who wAS gazing down the writhing maggot that was his enemy. Terrified, Kwan staggered back a few steps, uncertainly looking at his sobbing friend.

"Geez, Fentina, what'd you DO?" he asked, sounding more amazed than anything else.

Tucker tried to meet Danny's gaze, failed, and had to stare at the snow, where a few drops of blood had landed. He shivered, and took a few hasty steps behind Kwan, where he felt much safer.

There was a gasp from behind Danny, and the familiar silhouette of his sister raced past him to meet with a playground aid who was running in their direction. Danny did not quip so much as an eyebrow at the irony of the situation. When he'd tried hiding behind the aides, they simply pushed him away, told him to stop being ridiculous and to have fun. They looked the other way when Dash was kicking him in the face because Mr. Baxter owned most of the businesses here in this stupid town.

Jazz was breathless as she approached the aid, immediately and gleefully thrusting a finger in her brother's direction.  
><strong><em><br>"DANNY DID IT, DANNY DID IT!"_**

~(*0*)~

"Now, I'll have you know, Mrs. Ives, if you don't suspend him _immediately,_ or better yet, kick the little caitiff out of school, I'll sue! This poisonous little brat should be _behind bars in **an institution**!"_

Chest heaving with rage, Mr. Baxter glowered at Danny, who was staring dreamily out the window, admiring a small cardinal that was gathering twigs nearby. February was a bit early for the birds to start coming back, but it made him happy. He wondered if Vlad was smart enough to tell by its plumage whether it was a male or female. Scowling angrily at his lack of response, Dash's father continued:

"Probably mentally subnormal, too. He doesn't deserve to be in a schoolyard full of decent and normal young minds-this son of a shrew is a menace! A MENACE, I tell you! Mark my words, I'll sue you and his rotten family if you don't kick him out immediately!"

Mrs. Baxter nodded, eyes full of angry tears. She hugged her son, who was staring at his feet. One of his eyes was bright purple.

Immediately, Mrs. Fenton spoke up, eying Mrs. Baxter with a very incensed look, although it must be said that Mrs. Fenton had her eye around the rope of pearls Mrs. Baxter had around her neck, and the brilliant diamond ring that sparkled at her finger.

"_Who _in the _world_ are _you_ calling _rotten_?" she demanded, and her husband had to wearily pull her back to her seat so that she did not immediately start a fistfight in the office. "Boys will be boys, and if my son says he was genuinely defending himself-"

"'Boys will be boys?'" the blond woman repeated angrily. "I think it's more along the lines of 'terrorists will be terrorists!' There's something wrong with your son, Mrs. Fenton, and obviously something VERY wrong with you if this is the way you raised him-"

"I think it was just an accident," muttered Jack Fenton, swaying slightly in his seat. God, but he wished that everyone wouldn't talk quite so loud! "Danny just threw a snowball, and he just happened to scoop a rock in the mix without noticing. We paid for Dash's medical bill already; I think it's a little much to add 'mental anguish' to the list of charges-"

"Easy for YOU to say! Maybe YOU don't care about your son's well-being, but my wife and I won't stand for our little Dash to be traumatized!"

Jack threw his hands in the air and said nothing. The principle wearily turned her almond-shaped eyes to little Danny Fenton, who was now looking at a picture on the principle's desk.

"Your dog is pretty," commented the child, as carefree as if he were talking about the weather. "What type is it?"

"A Yorkshire Terrier, but that's not the point, Danny," said Mrs. Ives sternly, slowly sitting in her leather chair with an inaudible groan. God, but she would need a drink with her husband after today. "Mrs. Baxter, Mr. Baxter, I realize why you're so upset, but right now, I think it best if I talk to Danny and Dash alone for a few moments. No, you don't need to fear for your son's safety," she added, as Mrs. Baxter opened her mouth. "Mr. and Mrs. Fenton, I think it best if you step out also."

"Probably going to measure the little rat for a straitjacket," murmured Mr. Baxter soothingly to Mrs. Baxter as the two reluctantly stood and trooped out, but not before kissing and ruffling their child's fair hair. Without a pause, the two Fenton parents followed after. Now, it was just the principle, and the two boys. The nearby clock's ticking seemed amplified in the silence.

Clearing her throat, Mrs. Ives leaned forward in her seat, chin resting on her entwined fingertips. She sighed.

"Danny, it's obvious before I take any sort of action, you need to apologize to Dash. Is this clear?"

"No," said Danny simply, meeting her gaze. Mrs. Ives frowned, and tried again.

"What do you mean by 'no?' Danny, what I mean is that you must feel sorry for your actions, and need to let Dash know how sorry you are for them. You gave your classmate a black eye, and he needed a stitch. Doesn't that make you feel guilty for what you've done? Don't you want to cry over how much trouble you caused?"

"Not really," said Danny indifferently. "No one does anything when Dash gives _me_a bruise, or throws anything at me."

"I do not," muttered Dash angrily, still looking at his shoes. Mrs. Ives' frown deepened.

"Your parents look very troubled, Danny. Aren't you worried what sort of trouble you'll be in when you get home?"

"Not especially," said Danny. "Mommy will blame Daddy and Daddy will blame Mommy and then they'll both blame me and Daddy will go out to his dodgy place, whatever that is, and Mommy will cry and watch TV."

"If they say you can't do the things you enjoy for a week? Such as playing with your friends?"

"I only have one. Friend, I mean. And Mommy and Daddy can't keep me away from him. He's such a very nice friend."

Wow. If that didn't sound creepy, Mrs. Ives didn't know what did. She took a large swallow of coffee, keeping her eyes on the pale, spindly little child before her, who was kicking his dangling feet back in forth in his chair. She continued:

"So, you have an imaginary friend?"

"No one can see him," said Danny simply.

Mrs. Ives nodded wisely. Ah. "But don't you have any real friends?"

"I just told you I did," said Danny, slightly puzzled. Dash scoffed.

"Maybe if you didn't toss rocks at people, you'd make more ACTUAL friends," he said angrily, giving Danny a poisonous look. "Imaginary friends are stupid." God, how he hoped no one found about his imaginary friend chihuahua.

"I don't think it makes a difference if I throw rocks at mean people or not," Danny piped up. "I still don't have any other friends. But I don't mind, now."

"People don't particularly like being hit by rocks, Danny," said the principle sternly. "Regardless if you were provoked or not, you could have seriously hurt Dash, and you must be punished."

Danny didn't say anything. He sadly turned his gaze to his own hands, which lay folded in his lap. What good would it do for him to say anything at this point? The principle would do nothing for him.

"Danny, you will not be permitted to go out to recess at all this week," said Mrs. Ives coldly. "You have lost that privilege as a result of your unforgivable behavior. I will tell your teacher that you will be staying in to help wash the desks and the chalkboard. You will also not be permitted to have lunch with your classmates, so you will have to pack a lunch and eat with Ms. Star."

What privileges? Recess was when Dash and his cronies liked to beat him particularly hard, and now he finally had an excuse to stay inside! As if that weren't enough, Dash would not be able to take any money from Danny for over a week!

Filled with rapture, Danny tried to look sad and remorseful as Mrs. Ives continued:

"You will be assigned extra homework from your teachers."

That was fine, really. His parents would stick him in his room for quite some time for this anyway, so he would simply keep his hands over his ears when the TV was blasting or Mommy and Daddy were yelling at each other again. Focusing wouldn't be very hard.

Mrs. Ives continued:

"You will have to stay thirty minutes after school lets out every day this week, and do whatever Ms. Star tells you to do. It will be much darker around that time, so I will have to insist that your parents pick you up. And if they want to continue to send you here, they'd do well to escort you to school every day this week, too."

Yes. Yes. Yes. Danny kept his eyes to the ground and kept nodding, but inwardly, he was singing. Dash wouldn't be able to touch him one day this week. This wasn't _punishment_-it was paradise! Vlad had obviously known what he'd been talking about.

But even now, Mrs. Ives was not done yet: "And to sate Mr. and Mrs. Baxter, I believe that you will be suspended for a week, Danny, starting next Monday. I would begin it now, only I believe a full week will be less consequential for the school. We can't afford to have a lawsuit, especially during tax season..."

Danny knew the punishment was heavy and excessive at his expense, but it protected him. At least for two weeks. He was giddy with relief that he would not have to miss this Friday; it was the class' Valentine's Day party, and Danny did not wish to miss it for the world.

Nodding impressively, Mrs. Ives leaned back in her seat, and pressed the buzzer on her desk to let the parents back in.

**~(*0*)~**


End file.
